Sunday, May 07, 2006
Catty Grin Tin Tie
If you have addictive or obsessive-compulsive behaviors, beware of a contest called The Da Vinci Code Quest on Google. Last night I frittered away a couple of hours solving several of the total 24 puzzles. The puzzles are based on the plot, characters, and objects found in the book and movie, "The Da Vinci Code".
A prize was not my objective—I don’t even know what the winners receive, although I’m sure there must be the usual tantalizing lures of a foreign adventure, or at least a big screen plasma TV. For me, the hook was the smug satisfaction of feeling canny and clever as I completed the puzzles, which incorporate logic, geography, chess, movie clues, and of course, information searches on Google. They were easy enough at first, and the more puzzles I solved, the more confident and pleased with myself I became. Even though the hour was late, I felt compelled to tackle the next challenge. I was addicted.
So imagine my dismay when I became stuck on an observation puzzle, when I was not even half-way through the quest. Impossible! My shrewd discernment proved useless as I vainly tried to distinguish in the dark shadows of a movie trailer exactly what Silas was holding, or reaching for, or dropping…or…what was he doing?! I needed that answer to complete the puzzle, and I became edgy because I couldn’t figure it out. I replayed the video over and over, scanning for the slightest clue. It rankled me that I couldn’t comprehend the Silas video, but I decided to move on. I completed more puzzles, but I kept stewing about the one that stumped me. I reset the Silas puzzle. And then I began to rationalize.
“This is Google’s competition, so quite naturally the organizers would expect, no…WANT…me to use their search engine during their game. Just like I did for some of the previous puzzles.” With a few more lame excuses and justifications, I talked myself into it. I googled “Da Vinci Code Quest answers”.
You can find just about anything you’re looking for on Google, and it didn’t take long, .06 seconds as a matter of fact, to find more than one website that appeared to have the answers. My reaction, instead of one of glee, was of curiously ambivalent aversion. My dishonorable intentions were disdainful. Yet, my finger twitched on my mouse, eager to click and reveal the elusive answer. How shameful it would be to peek. But so irritating to stay stymied.
What did I do?! Finding the answer is YOUR quest. It’s included as an obvious anagram puzzle in this post. Solve it, and then email me your answer. The first five people with the correct answer will win a big screen plasma TV. OK, forget the prizes. I’m sure perspicacious people like you don’t need that kind of persuasion.
Hint: Find the answer in a long run of nonsensical words.
A prize was not my objective—I don’t even know what the winners receive, although I’m sure there must be the usual tantalizing lures of a foreign adventure, or at least a big screen plasma TV. For me, the hook was the smug satisfaction of feeling canny and clever as I completed the puzzles, which incorporate logic, geography, chess, movie clues, and of course, information searches on Google. They were easy enough at first, and the more puzzles I solved, the more confident and pleased with myself I became. Even though the hour was late, I felt compelled to tackle the next challenge. I was addicted.
So imagine my dismay when I became stuck on an observation puzzle, when I was not even half-way through the quest. Impossible! My shrewd discernment proved useless as I vainly tried to distinguish in the dark shadows of a movie trailer exactly what Silas was holding, or reaching for, or dropping…or…what was he doing?! I needed that answer to complete the puzzle, and I became edgy because I couldn’t figure it out. I replayed the video over and over, scanning for the slightest clue. It rankled me that I couldn’t comprehend the Silas video, but I decided to move on. I completed more puzzles, but I kept stewing about the one that stumped me. I reset the Silas puzzle. And then I began to rationalize.
“This is Google’s competition, so quite naturally the organizers would expect, no…WANT…me to use their search engine during their game. Just like I did for some of the previous puzzles.” With a few more lame excuses and justifications, I talked myself into it. I googled “Da Vinci Code Quest answers”.
You can find just about anything you’re looking for on Google, and it didn’t take long, .06 seconds as a matter of fact, to find more than one website that appeared to have the answers. My reaction, instead of one of glee, was of curiously ambivalent aversion. My dishonorable intentions were disdainful. Yet, my finger twitched on my mouse, eager to click and reveal the elusive answer. How shameful it would be to peek. But so irritating to stay stymied.
What did I do?! Finding the answer is YOUR quest. It’s included as an obvious anagram puzzle in this post. Solve it, and then email me your answer. The first five people with the correct answer will win a big screen plasma TV. OK, forget the prizes. I’m sure perspicacious people like you don’t need that kind of persuasion.
Hint: Find the answer in a long run of nonsensical words.
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Okay, I'm frittering away too much time trying to solve your puzzle! That's the trouble with modern technology and Google, it makes us too lazy to think. I'm pretty sure I know where it is, but I don't know WHAT it is. Then again, maybe you are trying to trick me by distracting me with an obvious long run of nonsensical words, when really it is in some other less prominent sentence. On the other hand, maybe you put it in the obvious place in order to trick me into overlooking something so obvious.
This whole thing is starting to sound like an episode from The Princess Bride!
By the way, you should put your e-mail link in this post for lazy people like me!
This whole thing is starting to sound like an episode from The Princess Bride!
By the way, you should put your e-mail link in this post for lazy people like me!
I know what you did. So when can I expect my big screen plasma TV? I'll e-mail you with my discovery.
Oh great, this is just what I need -- another addictive computer game. Recently a friend sent me a link (http://tinyurl.com/56t9u)to a dexterity game that Air Force pilots play to help them develop eye hand coordination. My personal record is 27.5999 seconds. I challenge anyone to best it! On an unrelated note, congratulations on the 8 comments you received on your last post. I know -- some of them were your own, but it is still very impressive to see that number!
Seeing as how I couldn't even solve the Day 2 challenge, I will not even attempt to try and decipher yours!
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